


The Red Queen

by VoidlessScreams



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10991847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidlessScreams/pseuds/VoidlessScreams
Summary: A peculiar girl finds her way through an old town and as she stays in one of the newer motels by the re-build and living parts of town a gorgeous man begins to visit her dreams, screaming for her to stay whenever she was to wake.





	The Red Queen

The city was certainly nothing of the new when you first came here. Stepping foot over the old, rocky pavement was like a little walk in the past, eyes catching every little detail that they could over the houses surrounding the old streets.

It was all in ruins, all was left with half-finished roofs, the smell of burning was still in the air causing your eyelids to flutter shut for just the fracture of a second and inhale the deeply intoxicating aroma that continues on to linger even when it has finished centuries ago already. As an archeologist job is simple. Find what you need, make sure it will pass well for the museum after you have finished researching it and call it a month at least. The task proved to be harder than anything when you finally managed your way into the old castle, covered in dust, soot and what might even look like dried up blood.

Almost as if a fight had broken out right in front of your eyes for your hand it would leave a bitter sweet taste in your mouth. Dry and in need of a drink, your brain ushered. 

The first thing you’d see as your body forced you to walk deeper into the empty halls was a portrait held by a golden and silver frame. Shine was even present, which left you to believe someone has been here before earlier this day before your visit to the town. No way would such a masterpiece of a frame be left untouched. Even if you thought one thing, the other was uncertain. The painting was well done, managing to capture every little detail of the manly figure who posed for this, even catching the shine of the little silvery buttons and golden bracelets and crown. Ever speck of hair was perfectly done, single strands visible with the naked eye and lord the clothes, the clothes were historic, beautifully detailed, every single color done just right and it was left to pop out just right under the light that apparently shone as the brush made its way over the canvas. Your only wish was that you could say what the face was like.

A masterpiece ruined by an uncaring hand, purposefully ripped off and left to suffer a man with no face. This would leave your lips even dryer. Who would leave a figure like this unknown to society? Who could do a horrid thing like this to the poor soul captured behind with such grace? And the most important question would linger at the back of your head, pushing through every little spot in your brain to remind you that yes, you can think right and ask the proper stuff, what happened during the era of this man’s ruling? You doubt you’ll ever easily figure it out.


End file.
